


Carry Me Home

by blackcoffeeandteardrops



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Episode: s11e10 My Struggle IV, F/M, Season/Series 11 Spoilers, Speculation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-17
Updated: 2018-03-17
Packaged: 2019-04-01 09:58:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13995837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackcoffeeandteardrops/pseuds/blackcoffeeandteardrops
Summary: Loosely inspired by promo pics for s11e10. Aka, Mulder tracks William down and tries to convince him to come home.





	Carry Me Home

Through the slats in the blinds, Mulder could see William watching him, studying him warily.

“Who are you?” the boy asked.

“My name’s Mulder,” he replied, his mouth growing dry. He’d had the whole drive to the motel to prepare what he’d say, to convince his son that coming back to DC with him would be a good thing, but with nothing more than a flimsy door and cement wall separating them, words seemed to fail him. “I’m your father,” he continued, registering the younger man’s surprise through the window. The blinds shut and William’s face disappeared from view. If he hadn’t seen him, hadn’t heard his voice, Mulder would have thought maybe he’d imagined the whole thing. “If you just let me in, I can explain. I can help you.”

Five seconds ticked by. Ten. Fifteen. Twenty. Nearly a whole minute passed. Enough time for Mulder to consider picking the lock, but if getting William to trust him was part of the plan, breaking into his hiding place wouldn’t be a great way to begin things. He raised his hand to knock again, only to hear the sound of the lock sliding out of place.

The door slowly opened and William looked at Mulder for a few seconds before nodding to himself, as if confirming the truth he already knew. Someone had come for him, although considering their ties, William hoped he wouldn’t regret opening the door for him. He swallowed, hard, and averted his gaze to the ground as he stepped aside to allow Mulder by. “Come in.”

Mulder did as asked, tucking his hands into the pockets of his jeans and rocking back on his heels as he waited for William to lock the door and make sure everything was secure. In the corner, the air conditioner whirred to life, although it did little to cool the space down. He eyed the overnight bag sitting on the bed, clothes spilling out, and the books that were stacked next to an open energy drink and bag of Doritos on the nightstand. William paced across the room, flicking on a light, and Mulder watched him, trying to process the fact that after so much time, he was finally here. “How’ve you been?”

William opened his mouth but shut it again, shaking his head as he ran a hand through his hair. “You shouldn’t be here. It isn’t safe.”

Mulder could count on one hand the number of times he’d held his son. If he thought William would’ve allowed it, he would’ve added another instance to the list. “I know it’s not safe. But that’s the reason I came all this way. I know all of this is crazy, and I know you’re scared, but--”

“You don’t know anything about me!” William cried, taking several steps away from him. He blinked back unshed tears and glanced back towards the window, wishing he’d have thought about closing the blinds more securely, but in order to do that he’d have to walk past Mulder, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to do that. “No matter what I do, no matter where I go, they’re after me. They’re chasing me. You can’t help me.”

Inside his pockets, Mulder’s hands were practically balled into fists. The last thing he wanted was to scare William off, and it was taking everything in him to not simply shake the boy into submission. “I know how unlikely you think this is, but if there is anyone out there who understands what you’re going through right now, it’s me. And Scully, who is doing everything she can right now back in DC to help track down the sons of bitches that are after you. That are hell bent on bringing this country to its knees. You’ve seen the visions of the future, William. It’s not far off. We can help you. We can protect you.”

William leaned against the wall, sniffing as he dabbed at his nose with the back of his sleeve. He kicked at a rip in the carpet, and for a second Mulder almost thought he had him, only to hear a laugh sounding from his direction. “If I’m so important to you guys, why’d you give me up? Why bother pretending to care now?”

Mulder shook his head, defiant. “The answer to that is a little complicated. It takes more time than we have to answer. But if you come with me, we can help you. Scully can explain a bit better than I can, but what you need to know now is that she wouldn’t have done it--we wouldn’t have done it--if there was any other viable way,” he replied. Not for the first time, he remembered the arguments he and Scully had in motel rooms not unlike the one he and William stood in where he all but pleaded with her to let him put feelers out and find their son. He’d even gone against her wishes once, proceeding to search over the period of a weekend, only to come back fruitless. When Scully asked, he’d lied and told her he was doing research for a novel he’d yet to finish. He’d failed at a lot of things, but he didn’t want to fail at this. “And no matter what you might think, we’re not pretending to care. I know that you and her have this whole brain meld thing going on. I don’t understand how it works, but I know you’ve seen her. And I also know that day in the morgue that you heard her. You have to know how much she cares about you.”

The words Scully had spoken over him, making the morgue her private confessional, hadn’t left William’s mind since he’d heard them. She’d loved him, she said, and still did. She regretted giving him up, and she’d never forgotten about him. Still, he’d had parents who’d raised him and loved him, and who were currently six feet under the ground, the fact of which made him feel sick. “If she cares so much, why isn’t she here?”

“She wanted to be, you have no idea how much, but the people responsible for the virus that’s been plaguing your dreams? They’re advancing their plans. She’s doing everything she can to make sure she’s ready to fight it when it comes,” Mulder replied. The tears in the younger man’s eyes nearly made him cry. His son was scared and he wanted to fix it, but without getting him to agree to go along, Mulder wasn’t sure how.

“So is that it, then?” William asked, raising his eyebrows and licking his lips as he laughed, the sound coming out louder than intended in the quiet room. “You need me to come back so I can save you.”

“No, that’s not--” Mulder paused, cursing internally. He pulled his hands from his jeans, resting one against his hip and rubbing the back of his neck with the other. “This isn’t about me right now. Or anyone but you. The men that are trying to get you, that want what’s inside of you, they’ll stop at nothing. You apparently know that already. But we’ve come across them before. You may not believe me, but we can help--”

“You keep saying that. And, you know, that’s nice. It is. I want to believe you,” William replied, crossing his arms as his bottom lip quivered. He shook his head, pressing it against the wall. “Everyone I’ve ever cared about has gotten hurt because of me. Because of whatever happened to make me the way I am. So I ran. But it wasn’t enough. They keep finding me, they keep chasing me. I don’t know why exactly, except for the fact I’m some sort of freak. I’m an experiment gone wrong, or something, or at least that’s what they think. And I don’t know if they want to kill me, or cut me open and figure out what’s inside of me, but--” he paused, pressing his palms to his eyes to blot hot tears. “Sorry, I just--”

“It’s okay,” Mulder replied, crossing the room and resting his hand on William’s shoulder. “It’s okay,” he repeated, knowing it wasn’t exactly the truth, but knowing that at the moment it was what he needed to hear. “I know you’re scared. I am, too. But you’re not a freak. I promise you that.”

William nodded, slowly processing his words. The weight of Mulder’s hand on his shoulder, warm through the fabric of his jacket, was initially a source of comfort, but suddenly it became too much, and he pried himself away. He shook his head, walking backwards towards the bathroom. “I can’t let other people get hurt because of me,” he said, shutting the door so loud it rattled on its hinges.

Mulder stared at a stain in the ceiling, hearing the faucet in the bathroom turn on, hoping that all William needed was a few moments to collect himself. Everything they were dealing with would be a lot for anyone to handle, especially a teenager who had already gone through so much. He sat on the bed, rolling his shoulders a few times, and waited. The air conditioner cycled off and then on again. Outside, he could hear the sounds of someone arguing with a pizza guy about the price. Every couple of seconds he’d think he heard the bathroom door open, only to realize it was something else, the building settling down for the night maybe. There wasn’t a back entrance, so he knew William couldn’t have escaped, and he knew it was only a matter of time. He stood up, at once desperate to break down the bathroom door, but also eager to get a breath of fresh air. Scully was in DC and bound to be fretting at this point. He quietly slipped out of the room, dialing her number, eager to assuage her fears.

“So he’s okay?” Scully asked, her voice breaking, the tiniest of sobs audible over the line once he’d had a chance to explain everything.

Mulder peered back into the room through the crack in the doorway, pressing the phone closer to his ear. “He’s okay, Scully. But I don’t know that it’s enough. He won’t listen to me. He won’t come with me.”

The line went quiet for several seconds. “So you’re saying he’s being stubborn, like his father?” Scully asked, trying to keep the conversation light.

“More like waiting for categorical, scientific evidence that what I say is correct, like his mother,” Mulder replied. He could picture the way she smiled softly to herself and he closed his eyes, willing himself to remain calm. The two halves of his heart were pulling him in seperate directions, and he wanted desperately to do whatever it took to pull them back together. He wasn’t sure what might happen if he tried going home without William in tow.

“He may not listen to you, Mulder, but he’ll listen to me,” Scully replied, sounding more sure of herself than she had in a long time.

“What do you mean, Scully? Through the visions? If you come here, Spender could have someone tracking you. Or any of those bastards could. It’s a miracle I haven’t seen any of them yet,” he said, quickly scanning the parking lot for any signs of movement. He knew there was no stopping Scully from seeing her son, especially when he was so close, but the last thing he wanted was for either of them to get hurt. “If anything goes down, Scully, he’s gonna need you. He’s going to need one of us to get him through this.”

“No, Mulder,” Scully replied. She was crying, he could tell by the sound of her voice, and he hated not being there to wipe the tears away. “He needs both of us. I need both of you.”

“You’re not listening to me. The kid locked himself in the bathroom like ten minutes ago. He’s not going to change his mind if I barge in demanding he follow orders. And Scully, the kid’s as tall as me. I’m not taking my son by force, I can’t--”

“He’ll listen to me,” Scully replied, enunciating every word. “Mulder, get back in the room. Put him on the phone, please,”

Mulder drew a deep breath. There was hope in her voice, and as he stepped back into the room, he prayed that it wouldn’t be ruined. “William, open up, I have--” he stopped, catching sight of William stuffing his books back into the overnight bag. His eyes were wide and startled, like some kind of wild animal.

 “I...kind of thought you left,” William said, dropping the bag on to the bed with a thud. He looked from Mulder’s eyes to the phone he was holding out in his direction. He stared at it as if it were a bomb about to explode. “What is it?”

Mulder took a step closer to him, hoping beyond hope that Scully’s plan would work. “It’s your mother. She wants to talk to you.”

William’s hand trembled as he wrapped his fingers around the phone. He pulled it to his ear, his eyes locking with Mulder’s. “Hello?”

“Hi,” Scully replied. The greeting was hardly enough, but she planned on making up for it in person if he’d let her. “William...Jackson...I don’t know what you want to be called, but I do know this: I care about you. And if you don’t feel like talking to me, I understand. But just listen, okay?”

William looked away from Mulder, focusing on the wall behind him instead. His jaw muscles tightened and he nodded, though she couldn’t see him. This woman had gone through a lot, that much he knew from the few words he’d heard from her, and even if he didn’t understand why, something tugged at him inside, a subtle longing to hear more. It was the same with Mulder, although he was afraid to admit it. “Yeah, okay.”

Scully let out a sigh of relief. She could hear him breathing, could practically picture the nervous stance he held as he held the phone to his ear. This was her son--her son, who she'd loved for as long as she'd known about him--and she wanted to make sure he was safe, so she darted her tongue out to moisten her chapped lips and began to speak. “I’m sorry for everything you've had to go through. It's a lot to ask of anyone, and it's a lot to ask of you. I’m so sorry. Your parents…” she said, her voice breaking. “I can't tell you how sorry I am. You deserve to be safe. We can offer that for you, if you’ll let us.”

Mulder watched as William nodded, closing his eyes as he processed whatever Scully was saying. He pinched the bridge of his nose and breathed in deep, walking over to look out the window in a feeble attempt at giving them some semblance of privacy.

William wrapped an arm tightly around his middle, squeezing his eyes shut so tightly stars prickled behind his closed lids. Her voice was warm and inviting, whether he wanted it to be or not. “What makes you so sure it's safe? If it wasn't safe before, how is now any different?”

“You're right,” Scully said. She sighed, blowing her breath out slowly through her teeth. “I can't promise you it's safe. But I can promise you we’ll do everything in our power to try. Please, let us try.”

William sighed, pacing from one end of the room to the other, shoving the hand not holding Mulder's phone into his pocket. “I’m the one they're after. Because of what I can do. I can't let anyone else I care about at all get hurt because of me.”

Across the line, she was grateful he couldn't see the look on her face. She dug her fingertips so deeply into her phone case she was sure it was going to leave indents in her skin. She closed her eyes and drew in a breath to steady herself. If her words weren't enough to convince him, there was something else she could try, and Scully prayed it would work. Images of she & an infant William flitted through her mind; holding him, singing to him, rubbing his tiny tummy to soothe him when nothing else would. There was a time she vividly recalled, rocking William and holding a picture of Mulder, telling him about the father the boy deserved to know. She opened her eyes, blinking a few times as she felt her pulse return to normal. “Did that work?”

Stunned, William walked towards the bed, sitting down with a subtle thud. “Yeah. Yeah, it did,” he said, knitting his brows together. “How...how can we do that? Show each other stuff?”

“I don't know,” Scully replied. Guilt over trying to convince him to come home by using the connection they shared paled in comparison to the anticipation that coursed through her at the thought of seeing William again. “You've seen a potential future. I know you have. I won't force you to come here, and despite whatever Mulder might have said, he won't either. It's your choice,” she said, effectively putting the ball in his court.

William hadn't been a sheltered child; he'd had friends, was allowed to eat things like pizza and watch tv even when other kids in his class weren't allowed. Reflecting on that though, he couldn't help wondering if his parents had allowed such trivial rewards to make up for the tests and trials he’d had to endure. By the time he was a teenager, he needed both hands to count the number of “experts” he’d been to over the years. An image flashed in his mind, and suddenly, he saw her. Scully was sitting with her legs tucked under her and stacks of files piled on either side. A laptop was resting on her lap as she worried the cuff on one sleeve of a hoodie that looked too big for her with her thumb. She was the one who according to the visions could very well save the world, but first she was worried about saving him. The thought felt powerful enough it knocked the air out of his chest. It was strange, mattering so much to people he barely knew, but the feeling wasn't unwelcome. “Okay.”

“Okay?” Scully asked, almost not wanting to believe it.

William shifted on the bed, turning to see that Mulder was still standing at the window, trying his best to pretend he wasn't listening to every word being said. He flicked his eyes toward the door, thinking that if he acted quickly he could bolt and leave the entire situation behind, but he was beginning to realize that wasn't what he wanted. His choice, he thought. They wanted him, but had made it clear the decision was his to make. William wasn't sure the last time he’d been trusted to make any major decisions in his life, running away after his parents died and effectively becoming a fugitive--at least that's what he thought he still qualified as--aside. “I think so. I guess I should go. Get ready or something?”

His words were stilted, a bit broken up, but they'd get better at communicating with time. “Hey, wait a second,” Scully replied, desperate to not hang up just yet. “Just...be safe. The both of you.”

William agreed, nodding before realizing he needed to voice his reply out loud. He did so and then hung up, feeling Mulder's eyes burning a hole through him. He shrugged, moving around the bed to hand the phone back to him.

“How'd it go?” Mulder asked, amused despite the circumstances when William wasn't subtle about rolling his eyes in response to his terrible joke. It was a typical teenage response, but there was something in it similar to the way Scully had responded to him over the years that warmed his heart.

“Fine,” William said, shrugging as if he hadn’t just agreed to take a trip that was bound to change all of their lives, at least in some small way.

At that, Mulder couldn’t suppress a laugh. He felt lighter than he had in a long time.

“What?” William asked, feeling as if he were missing a joke he was meant to be in on.

“It’s just, and don’t take this the wrong way, but you’re a lot like her,” Mulder replied.

William’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. A smile ghosted across his lips, unbidden. He was like the mother he barely knew, who he wished to one day know. It was strange, bittersweet in a way considering the circumstances, but was nonetheless important. His eyes met Mulder’s, and for a second he recalled a memory from soon after the visions began. He remembered crowding as close to the mirror as he could, staring at his own reflection and trying to bring the memories from the visions to the forefront of his mind. He was pretty sure the man in his visions had been his father; he’d sensed his presence several times, but the reality that he was standing close enough to touch the man who for so much of his life had been a giant question mark suddenly seemed like too much.

Mulder watched the way William’s lip twitched, fighting whatever emotions were surely dwelling within. “What is it?”

“I just--” William stopped, his voice cracking. “All of this. It’s impossible, right? And I--”

“Hey, none of that. Come here,” Mulder said, knowing full well he was potentially pushing boundaries with his next move, but deciding he didn’t care. He stepped into William’s space, pulling his son into a tight embrace. It was surreal, holding his son for the first time since he was an infant. His shoulders were shaking, whether from fear or pent up adrenaline Mulder didn’t know, but he pulled William closer in hopes of pushing all of that away. “You’re going to be okay. We all are. I know it seems impossible right now, irrational even, but if there’s one thing I’ve learned from your mother, it’s that some things have to be taken on faith.”

“Faith in what?” William asked, his voice little more than a whisper. His own arm was tucked loosely around Mulder’s waist, his hand pressed against him, and for a second he wanted to freeze time. Here, things were okay. Here, things were safe. Teenagers probably weren’t supposed to think that about hugging their parents, he thought, especially ones they didn’t really know, but it didn’t make it any less true.

“In the truth, whatever that truth might be,” Mulder replied, counting to five before pulling away. He peered at William, trying to gauge his response. The anxiety that had been there moments before still remained, but it was mixed now with a solid resolve. Scully had told him once she had the strength of his beliefs and that it was enough to save her. He hoped he could pull on some of her strength now. “Will you come?”

He could say no, William knew that. He could deny them this chance, but in doing so he’d be depriving himself of the opportunity to get answers to questions he’d been asking for so long he’d grown weary about it. “I need to pack my stuff.”

“Okay,” Mulder replied, nodding his head slowly. His heart was beating rapidly in his chest, so much so that he hoped William wasn’t able to sense it. He wasn’t entirely certain of how his son’s supposed powers worked. He clapped his hands together and surveyed the room, afraid to push William too fast, but knowing they needed to head out soon if they wanted to be home by daybreak. “Do you need any help?”

William sighed, making a show of sweeping his arm in the direction of the bed where the overnight bag and a meager assortment of items were sitting. “I don’t know. It might take us a while.”

Mulder smiled, and a weight lifted from his shoulders when he saw William do the same thing. Gone was the anger and sadness that was present upon him entering the room. He jerked his thumb in the direction of the door, cocking his head the same way as he posed the question. “I’m going to get a drink from the vending machine before we go. Do you want anything?”

William shrugged, stuffing a pair of jeans into the duffel bag, not bothering to fold them. He didn’t think they’d be in there long anyway. “Water’s fine. Or, hey, coke if they have it.”

Mulder would’ve bought him just about anything, but he wasn’t about to say that for fear of William one day taking advantage of it. “Meet me outside?”

“Yeah,” William said, his eyes scanning the room for any items he might have missed before zipping the bag up. The motel room had been a solace of sorts for the past several days, a hiding spot away from whatever chaos that might soon befall them. He thought of Scully, plotting their course of attack, and he thought of Mulder who was currently headed out the door. They were a family, however flawed and frayed and bruised, and he found himself eager to find out what their next step would be. Whatever it was, he knew they’d face it together. “I’ll be there soon.”


End file.
